The Desperate Ones
by SimpleStyles
Summary: Despite Kurt's speech to Rachel about how they had to move on, giving up Finn was proving to be tricky business. Especially when he finds himself becoming Finn's backbone through events so life changing they alter the shape of their whole relationship.
1. Hairline Fractures

_This is my first fanfiction in…goodness, I don't even want to calculate! And it's my first Glee-ful story to boot. Anyways, I want to give you guys a heads up._

_This is not going to be a happy story! Because basically, what I wanted to do was have a progression of Finn and Kurt's relationship in the most realistic way possible while still having some chemistry between them in the first place. Which I could be – and probably am – totally off base on. To be honest, I wrote this awhile ago and only decided I would actually upload it now…oh yeah, and it takes place after Hairography and kind of goes on it's own little train track from there._

_Anyways, I'm done with that! I think the story will have to speak for itself now. Let me know what you think!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Glee! And it's all for the best, what a maudlin mess that would be.  
_

Among the tangled lives that threaded the hallways of McKinley high, Kurt Hummel stood out for all the wrong reasons. He wasn't noticed for his ability to score seemingly effortless field goals, but rather for the fact that he had to channel Beyonce first. His clear soprano, though pitch-perfect, was jeered at for its similarity to a girls (there were crude jokes of how Kurt didn't have the "equipment" to make for the voice of a normal teenaged boy, but he scoffed at these with a grim sense of self-satisfaction). And when his choice of dress turned heads, whether it was the D&G raincoat bought solely for slushie warfare or the unitard he had donned for his Single Ladies YouTube cover, his impeccable ability to accent his slim figure was met most often with a Big Quench to the face.

This particular day, instead of appreciating the brilliant blue-green hue of Kurt's large eyes, his uncouth teammates on the football team chose to recognize the object of his gaze.

"Keep your eyes off the quarterback, fag." One of them yelled. Kurt closed his eyes before he could see which had spoken, resigning himself to the familiar dull thud of his body on the bags full of miscellaneous trash. Eventually this would get old, he told himself. One day.

Climbing out when he heard their voices retreating, Kurt leaned back on the unforgiving black metal of the dumpster and sighed, absent-mindedly fixing his bangs. A dull pressure built in his forehead as he glumly reflected on what had earned him today's trip to the trash. Finn and Quinn, in their bubble of a revitalized relationship had arrived at school together as they always did these days. Arm in arm, they had strode past everyone without a second glance. But the look on Finn's face had stopped Kurt in his tracks. Tenderness he had never seen on it before practically seeped out of the pores of his admittedly-dry-but-otherwise-flawless skin as he smiled at the blonde by his side. A sharp pang in his chest had rooted him to the spot as his eyes couldn't help but follow the tall teen that held his heart as he walked away. It was soon after this that his motionless stance caught the eyes of much less desirable football players, and he was whisked away.

Which brought him back to square one. Kurt winced as he tested weight on his right foot; it had snagged unpleasantly on the lip of the bin, and a thick throbbing was letting him know just how hard the hit had been. The pressure in his head continued to mount. No wonder he was being so unbearably catty lately; the bullying, sectionals, the undeniable fact that he just didn't stand a chance, _could never _stand a chance… it had reduced him to lashing out at Rachel, something all too easy on the best of days.

As he headed to the bathroom to dust himself off and fix his hair properly, the churning in his stomach refused to cease. Something had to change, he thought to himself. Or he would snap worse than Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard.

The school day itself was mainly uneventful: a blur of facts and formulas and interpretations that Kurt dutifully copied down while the better half of his brain wandered in home-spun fairy tales, stories where there were two princes who lived happily ever after and the beautiful blonde princess was no longer an active part of the equation. It wasn't until math class in last period that he was finally diverted from his daydreams. Sinking into his usual seat towards the end of the middle row, his eyes drifted to the doorway. _He'd_ be there soon. Always just in the nick of time before the bell, he would shuffle through the door, calling out last words to his friends in the hallways. But today was not the same. Less than a minute after Kurt had resigned himself to his seat, Finn strode into the classroom, his eyes far away. And if Kurt was already taken aback at his uncharacteristic promptness, he was positively speechless when Finn smoothly pulled out the chair next to him and sat down.

"Hey." He said to Kurt, glancing over with his signature dopey, lop-sided grin. His eyes were still glazed with that peculiar, romantic sheen that had been there that morning.

"Finn," Kurt said quickly. He mentally cursed his excitable complexion; all this blushing would force him to re-apply his foundation… "Hi."

"I heard some of the football guys tossed you in the trash again this morning. You okay?" The genuine concern that creased his brow brought an uncomfortable lump to the base of Kurt's throat. This was the reason; why no matter what he told himself he couldn't help but grasp the knowledge that somewhere, whether it was romantic or not, Finn cared about him. In that gentle heart of his, somewhere was a tiny corner that was only for Kurt. Even if there were other people – other _girls_ – that held much greater portions. His smile faltered at the thought.

"F-fine." He mumbled. "Nothing I haven't been through before." He chuckled nervously, his attempt at lightening the reply falling flat.

"Oh…" Finn looked troubled a moment longer, then his face brightened. "Well, I wanted to ask you. After school can you stick around for a bit longer? There's something I kind of wanted to talk to you about."

"Of course." Kurt said, nonplussed.

"Cool." Finn said, smiling easily, and turned to the front of the room in an attempt to prevent failing the algebra unit.

The minutes crawled by with an unprecedented dullness. Resisting the urge to drum his carefully sculpted nails on the desktop, Kurt fell back on his other nervous habit: lip balm. Fifty-two minutes and half a tube of Prada's moisturizing lip treatment later, he remained still in his seat while most of the class eagerly rushed towards what was left of their Tuesday afternoon. Finn had milled at the door, waving goodbye to his football buddies. When the room was empty, with the exception of the teacher who was marking papers, he gestured for Kurt to follow him out the door.

"Is something going on?" Kurt inquired as they walked down the hallway. "I don't mean any offense, but you don't seem the type who can handle any more drama than what you've already got to deal with."

Finn glanced around uneasily. "Hold on, let's wait until we're in the auditorium. No one's ever in there when Glee's not rehearsing unless it's Rachel, and I know she has a master's ballet class or something today. So we'll have some privacy."

The word brought an immediate swooning sensation to Kurt's stomach, and he was unpleasantly reminded of his dad taking him to the amusement park as a kid. Burt Hummel had been excited about showing his son the ropes of the best roller coasters the state had to offer, and started him out on the most reputedly terrifying ride of them all. After being stealthily nudged past the height limit (Kurt had always been small for his age, but at six it was all the more apparent), he had been strapped into a mock-skydiver's harness and proceeded to have the most terrifying five minutes of his entire life to date. Until, perhaps, now. So caught up in this and the pounding of his heart, Kurt placed far too much weight on his tender ankle. Stumbling slightly, he was steadied by a warm hand grabbing his wrist.

"Is something wrong with your foot? The coach is going to freak, there hasn't been a practice where he hasn't yelled about how you should be back on the team."

Kurt could only smile weakly in reply, trying desperately to keep his hand still, when all he wanted to do was twist it in the quarterback's grip and squeeze it tightly back. The raw need of the sensation dampened his curiosity of what Finn had to say, and his face fell into familiar haughty melancholy.

"I don't think I'm quite the football type either way. The helmet hair is unmanageable."

They walked between the rows of seats in the auditorium, making their way to the front row. Kurt stopped in front of the stage.

"Tell me what's on your mind, Finn."

"Okay." He was quiet a moment, the intensity of the far-away look in his eyes building. Sitting down in the nearest seat, leaving Kurt standing somewhat awkwardly in front of him, he took a deep breath and made his confession.

"I slept with Quinn last night." Seeing the color drain from Kurt's face, he hurriedly added to his account. "We used protection and everything, but I'm pretty sure since she's already got one going it won't mess anything up. Unless it gets a twin or something, I guess … it's just that, I'd never done that before. With her, or with anyone, and it made me feel so close to her …"

In front of him, a low quavering cough emitted from Kurt's throat but he drove on without noticing.

"I just really needed to talk to someone about this. And Puck acts so messed up whenever I talk about Quinn or the baby with him…and you were always so helpful and understanding before, like when I was telling her parents and stuff. So I thought that you could hear me out…and also, I mean it seemed like you were worried about whether Quinn and I would stick together or not. I kind of wanted to let you know that we're all good."

"I see." The boy in front of him mumbled, his voice thick as he sank into the seat next to Finn. He refused to make eye contact, looking straight ahead with an expression reminiscent of a deer facing a pair of oncoming high beams. "Now let me get this quite clear. Quinn is pregnant."

"Yeah, that was confirmed for sure awhile back."

"But you've never had sex with her." Kurt said softly.

"Well, we figure it happened in her hot tub, I'm not the greatest with uh, self control sometimes…"

"…Never had sex with her until last night." He finished. Finn nodded, and Kurt couldn't bear to look up and catch that gleam in his eyes, that beautiful happiness that graced his features.

"Finn," he began, his voice still straining to be light. "What makes you think that the baby's yours?" Finn stiffened slightly, puzzled.

"Quinn's my girlfriend. She has been for months."

"Of course," Kurt said, mainly to himself. "And now you're closer than ever." He added, chuckling mirthlessly.

"Yeah…we really are. And I don't know if I could've handled this past week without you helping me out, Kurt. It really means a lot to know you have my back." Uneasy, Finn glanced at the boy next to him, unwillingly taking note of his grey complexion and pinched expression. These warning signs receded into the background however, when Kurt looked up and smiled warmly, even if it didn't quite touch his eyes.

"I'm very happy to have been helpful. You helped me get on the football team, and I never really thanked you for that. So I'm glad I got to do something in return for you … and for Quinn."

"Well, that's what friends are for, you know, which is pretty cool." Finn grinned goofily. "Thanks for hearing me out. I should go now though, I have to take Quinn to a doctor's appointment, she'll be wondering where I am. Do you need a ride anywhere?"

"Oh God, no," Kurt said quickly, and then backtracked. "I think I'm actually going to stick around here for awhile, maybe practice the new number. I've been having some trouble with the steps."

"Are you kidding?" Finn laughed as he stood up, stretching. "You had it nailed before anyone! Except maybe Rachel, but she doesn't really count. She'd be like a second teacher if she wasn't so young. And you know, such a spotlight fiend." Laughing, Kurt stayed seated, twisting to watch Finn go.

"I'll see you later, then." He called after him, stumbling briefly on his words. Finn paused and turned around.

"For sure. See you!" And with one last effortless smile, the doors to the auditorium were echoing shut.

Kurt sat very still in his seat, watching an empty stage. Not only was Finn an absolute fool, for believing he could be the baby-daddy in the first place, but he was an absolute fool in love. He stood up, his posture momentarily slumped as he slammed his eyes shut, trying to shatter the images of Finn and Quinn being intimate. After a minute of self indulgence, Kurt squared his shoulders and strode out of the spacious room. It was time to drive home, put on My Best Friend's Wedding and sob his sorry heart out.


	2. Under the Surface

Enter chapter two! I had them both written so I figured I may as well put it up. I do know where this story is going, and it's not really clear in these first couple of chapters, but it will evolve!

Chaos had broken loose in the music room. Rachel and Kurt were facing off next to the piano while the rest of the Glee club watched quietly, waiting to see what would happen. Rachel was quaking with rage, her jaw set firmly as she stared at Kurt, who had merely crossed his arms and met her gaze.

It had started with choreography. In an effort to make the students feel more involved in the running of the club, Mr. Schuester has allowed Rachel (with some trepidation) to arrange the dance for their newest number, I Don't Wanna Miss A Thing by Aerosmith. Finn had the solo, and every chance he had he would steal glances at Quinn, who would weakly return the smile that would surface on his face.

With Rachel in charge of dancing, Glee had quickly become somewhat like boot camp, as she insisted on fifteen minutes of conditioning to warm up before attacking the rigorous routine she's put together. No one was overly enthusiastic about Rachel being given any form of responsibility, since it seemed to be her equivalent to crack cocaine, but they mostly grumbled and put up with it anyway. But after assigning nothing but the most individually stereotypical dance moves to each respectable member, both Mercedes and Kurt had had enough.

"Hold up, I'm through with this!" Mercedes had burst out during a run through of the song. "Why do you have me doing the finger-shake-from-the-block move? It doesn't even go with the song!"

"It's metaphorical!" Rachel said impatiently. "You know, you're shaking your finger, it symbolizes that no, you really don't want to miss a single thing. I put it with the chorus for that specific reason!"

"That doesn't really explain why I'm doing nothing but pirouettes. Not to say that I'm not better at them than anyone else here…" Kurt pointed out. "Or why Tina has to keep holding the peace sign pose for ten second intervals during the guitar solo."

Rachel rounded on Kurt with a vengeful look in her eyes. "Kurt, why do you always have to go out of your way to make my life harder? I really believe in this choreography! The last thing I would strive for is to further enforce the already strong stereotypes in today's society! If you would forget about the fact that you don't like me for just one minute we could be professional about this-"

"Rachel, it's not just the fact that if I could, I would have your voice box permanently removed. These dance moves? They're terrible." Planting his feet firmly, Kurt stared her down. "Almost as terrible as that sweater; Honestly, I bet your grandmother would be ashamed to be seen in that atrocity."

Hurt flashed across her face as she fingered the wool of her pale pink sweater with extravagant lace at the cuffs and the collar.

"At least it's better than what –" She began, but broke off angrily. Kurt waited silently to see if she would continue. He knew she was thinking of the outfits he had put together for her, convincing her it would entice Finn. If she mentioned that, Finn would hear that it had been his doing, and he was bound to think that was curious…his eyes hardened, preparing for the blow. The club hovered around them, their eyes straying back and forth between the two. Mr. Schuester chose this moment of tension to break things up.

"All right guys; let's not make this too personal. It's almost time for you guys to head out anyway, so I'll let you go five minutes early. I hope that tomorrow everyone," He gave pointed looks to both Rachel and Kurt. "comes back here open and ready to learn from each other."

The heaviness in the air slowly dissipated as everyone shuffled to grab their bags and coats before heading out the door.

"Hey Kurt, wait a second!" Mercedes said brightly as she caught Kurt about to walk out of the room before anyone else. "Are we still on for watching Dreamgirls today at my house?"

Kurt touched a hand to his head, closing his eyes briefly before turning back to Mercedes, a condescending look on his face. "I'm afraid I'll have to cancel our plan Mercedes. Besides, with all the drama you stir up, sometimes I just have to be _around_ you to feel like I'm watching Dreamgirls."

Speechless, with anger and hurt coloring her cheeks, Mercedes swiftly walked past him without a word. Kurt lingered at the doorway, staring at the blue carpet of the music room.

"Hey." A voice sounded from behind him. Kurt whirled around, trying to rearrange his expression back into its carefully reserved manner, but failing once he saw the only person who hadn't left yet.

"Finn." He acknowledged, a guarded look surfacing in his eyes. "Is there something you needed to talk about?" He smiled, but it felt awkward on his face and hurt to keep trying so he let it drop.

"Well, sort of. It's not me or anything though." He said, sitting down on one of the miscellaneous chair scattered about the room and watching Kurt as he sat primly on the piano bench.

"It's just that you've been kind of an ass the past few days." Finn began, but backtracked at the hurt on Kurt's face. "I mean you always say what you think, which is something I admire about you. But lately you've just been downright mean. Like what you said to Mercedes just now – I thought you guys were really good friends? I don't get it."

"I just have a lot on my mind." Kurt said quickly, determinedly refusing to meet Finn's eyes.

"That's kind of what I thought. You can talk to me, you know…I've definitely unloaded enough on you. So if something's going on, maybe I can help you out for a change."

The quarterback watched the boy in front of him. Kurt's head was bowed, his hands tightly clasped on his lap.

"Sometimes…well, on occasion I get tired of holding in…" He paused awkwardly, still not meeting Finn's eyes. "…the feelings I don't usually voice."

His statement hung thickly in the air, and it was uncomfortable. It seemed too full of hidden meanings for Finn to take at face value, so he forced himself to consider something about Kurt that he'd never discussed with him…only assumed.

"Is it a problem…with, uh, a guy?" He said slowly, trying not to let him know just how unnerved he still was by the idea. Kurt's head shot up, his eyes saucers in his face.

"Finn-" he started, but was cut off.

"I know that, I've never, you know, heard for sure that you were…well, that that's what you're interested in but…if it is a problem like that, you know, I'll still hear you out. I mean…you are, aren't you?"

"Gay, you mean." He said abruptly, the same wide-eyed stare and drained expression that he wore in the auditorium lying fixed on his face.

"Yeah, that's what I was getting at." Finn said, scratching his neck self consciously.

Kurt didn't respond at first. Even if he wasn't ashamed of his orientation, it still terrified him to be open about it, especially with the one who unknowingly held his affection. Part of him was desperate to deny what Finn had obviously already pegged, but something told him it would be futile.

"Yes," he began, his composure wilting as he slumped forward on the bench. The more people he said this out loud to, the more difficult it became to admit, it seemed. "I'm gay." He paused again, inhaling shakily. "I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't spread it around, so to speak."

"I won't. But honestly Kurt I think that you know, sometimes the way you are kind of speaks for itself…" Finn didn't mean his statement to be unkind. Objectively it was a hard thing to disagree with. But to his dismay within seconds he was faced with a Kurt Hummel who was trying desperately and unsuccessfully not to cry.

"Hey, it's okay. It's not like anyone thinks any less of you. I know I don't." Finn got to his feet and sat next to Kurt on the piano bench. If he were a girl he wouldn't feel weird about hugging him…but given the circumstances…

Kurt's throat grew even more constricted when he felt Finn's hand rest carefully on his shoulder. He pressed a hand to his eyes, but even still the damp trails that slipped through his fingers were difficult not to notice. There was something horribly ironic about this whole situation, he thought. Finn really was trying to comfort him. But how could he let him know that he was the source of the problem, without ruining the friendship they had just begun to build upon?

"If it makes you feel any better, I'll do what I can to look out for you, if you decide to open up with this." Kurt smiled bitterly.

"I wouldn't if I were you. If being in Glee dubs you 'Deep Throat' then I shudder to think of what standing up for the resident homo would bring."

"Oh." Finn said lamely. He obviously hadn't considered that. Wiping his cheeks, Kurt inhaled shakily, closing his eyes when he felt Finn's grip on his shoulder tighten. It was moments like this he was desperate to remember, quick snippets of time where the bond between them was literally tangible, placed in the form of a warm hand on a soft sweater.

"Kurt…" Finn said hesitantly, his hand sliding down the boy's arm and resting on his wrist. Kurt didn't open his eyes, but nodded in acknowledgment.

"I really think you should apologize to Mercedes. She really cares about you, and I know you do about her. I think the rest of the club is getting a little put off, too. If you would just tell them…"

"First Rachel, now me…" Kurt laughed, his lips pursed. "You're making a habit of hanging out with the most grating people at school." Finn was silent, not knowing quite how to respond to that. "I'm going to make it up with Mercedes. I shouldn't have snapped." He stood up, stretched, and made his way to the door. Looking back, he gazed at Finn, his expression unreadable.

"I just get tired of it, you know," He started, and Finn got the feeling that this was another of those things where the meaning was layered, where he was saying one thing and hinting at another. "When no one here can be honest with each other."

Something like pity flickered to the surface of his face, but before Finn could think to ask what he meant, Kurt had walked briskly from the room.


	3. Broken Dishes

_Thank you so much for your favorites/reviews! I'm so happy to know that this is well received, and I hope you guys continue to like where this goes. The plot gets moving a little more in this chapter...the next one is where the main ideas I had for this start happening! Believe it or not, but I started this off as a one shot..._

_Disclaimer: (I'm terrible at remembering these..) But I DO NOT own Glee! Or Aida, for that matter.  
_

_Enjoy!  
_

Sitting in Social Studies, the only class he shared with Mercedes, Kurt was trying very hard not to stare across the room at his closest friend. He had finished his test on the civil war ten minutes ago, and had nothing more pressing to occupy his mind than the exchange that had taken place between them the previous day.

______

After arriving home, the first thing Kurt had done was put on Aida. He started with "I Know the Truth"; belting along with the melancholy lyrics had temporarily soothed his frustrations with the baby situation. Skipping over "Elaborate Lives" entirely - Kurt may have been feeling better at this point, but not enough to tackle a powerful romantic duet on his own - the next to come on was "My Strongest Suit". One of his typical feel-good songs, lying on his bed and humming along to Sherie René Scott singing about the enjoyment of a superficial lifestyle brought a genuine smile to Kurt's face. Shutting off his iPod, he reached for the cordless phone on his bedside table and dialed Mercedes' number.

"Kurt." She said, an unmistakable frost tinting her tone.

"Hi Mercedes," Kurt began, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry about what I said to you earlier. It was unfair and untrue. I've just been – "

"-Stressed out, yeah. I know. It's _really_ obvious Kurt. You walk around with this look on your face like you've just been told Wicked is closing on Broadway and the tour is cancelled."

"Don't even joke about that." Kurt said quickly, his breath hitching at the thought.

"Believe me, I am _not_ joking. You look traumatized. And you won't even talk to me about it, will you?"

There was an awkward pause. Kurt had been comfortable having Mercedes be the first person to know he was interested in players for the same football team, so to speak. But letting her know which specific jersey he had set his sights on? He felt not only queasy with embarrassment, but intimidated by the speech he would undoubtedly receive about "wanting what he can never have". Mercedes was all about reality checks, and that was the last thing he wanted right now.

"Mm-hmm. This silent treatment you're giving me? It's proving my point. But whatever you have wrapped around that drama queen brain of yours is shutting everyone else out, too." Mercedes' voice had been upright and offended, but now it just sounded hurt. "Yesterday I _really needed_ to talk to you, Kurt. I found out something really important. But I asked if you had a minute and you just looked at me and said you were too melancholy to be a shoulder to cry on."

Kurt recalled the moment with shame. As true as it had been, he had assumed Mercedes was upset about a trivial event, like the latest cut from American Idol or something.

"Mercedes, you're right." He said softly, subtle shades of sorrow painting his voice. "I haven't been there for you. But I'm here to listen now. What's going on?"

His tentative apology was greeted with an exasperated sigh.

"What's going on isn't the point, Kurt. The point is that these days you're only around when it suits you, and I'm tired of it. Don't get me wrong. You're my best friend. But everything just seems too off balance right now." There was finality in her tone that made Kurt fall back on his bed, close his eyes and fear the worst.

"Just give me a break from you, okay?" She said. He didn't reply, so the line was silent until she spoke again. "It hurts too much to feel this helpless."

Kurt was still, a hand over his eyes, with the beeping of the phone pounding in his ears long after the line went dead.

_______

The alienation from his go-to gal sent Kurt into a minor mental tailspin. After the phone call he'd announced to his father that he'd be in his room all evening with Glee practice and to not disturb him, which had ensured him the privacy to shed a few tears over his own solitary viewing of Dreamgirls. And though he was over the hysterics of the post-fight depression the next day, seeing Mercedes sit on the opposite side of the classroom from the seat next to him that she usually occupied brought a tightness to his chest he knew was somewhat well-deserved.

Striding through the hallways to math class, keeping a wary eye out for slushies that could potentially stain his tan Burberry peacoat, a figure that brought a salmon stain to his cheeks caught his eye.

"Finn," he said, getting the jock's attention while he caught up. Finn turned around and smiled.

"Oh, hey Kurt, how's it going? Did you talk things out with Mercedes?"

His smile ebbed away as watched Kurt's head drop.

"Yes. Well, I tried to." He looked up, meeting Finn's eyes. "Maybe I should ask for Rachel's recipe for I'm Sorry cookies. She didn't take my apology very well." He chuckled thinly.

They entered the classroom just as the second bell rang.

"Do you want to talk about it later?" Finn asked quietly as he pulled out the chair next to Kurt and sat down.

Surprise flooded Kurt's features. While he knew that his friendship with Finn had strengthened in the past couple of weeks, it took some getting used to. Having Finn being truly concerned with issues going on in Kurt's life that were completely unrelated to him somehow drove home the fact that he accepted him in his entirety. Which was, he realized guiltily, exactly what he had failed to do with Mercedes recently…no wonder she'd been feeling shunned. It occurred to him that whenever the "later" Finn referred to happened to be was an opportunity to find her and explain that he'd seen the error of his ways. But if Finn was willingly spending time with him, how could he pass it up? He glanced at Finn, who was awaiting his response, and smiled.

"I'd really love that."

______

Under the pretense that they were practicing an idea for the Glee club, lunchtime found Finn and Kurt in the auditorium once more. Finn had initially thought Kurt was making a big deal out of nothing when he said they needed a cover story, but when Karofsky and his friends asked where he was going with the fairy-boy he found himself stuttering out the excuse anyway. Kurt had finished giving Finn the details of his conversation with Mercedes, and was now silent, leaning against the stage. Finn sat in a front row seat, a mild frown creasing his forehead.

"Well, I'm sure she'll give you a second chance Kurt. In a couple of days maybe she'll be calm enough to hear you out."

"That's true." Kurt said uncertainly. "I guess I'm just not used to needing a second chance from someone." He sighed.

"Everything changes. I mean…you sure have, you know, in the past week. I still can't really get over it." Finn mused, unsmiling.

"Finn," Kurt started abruptly, and then cut himself off, his gaze falling to his feet. Finn got out of his seat and stretched, reaching his arms above his head.

"What is it, Kurt?"

"It's not a big deal," he began, his cheeks tinged with pink. "But could I have a hug?"

There was a heavy pause, and Kurt was mortified. This must be the line, he thought. Talking things out was one thing, but physical contact would obviously make Finn uncomfortable…after all, it was only yesterday that he'd told him he was gay. What he didn't know was that Finn was silently weighing things out in his mind. He was watching Kurt, and thinking of how his mom had died when he was six. He was remembering Kurt's anxiety to impress a father he was terrified wouldn't accept him. Watching Kurt, he realized he was looking at someone who had spent most of his life getting crap for the kind of person he was, and now it was finally catching up with him, in some way or another. He was looking at a boy, who never came to school less than flawless, standing in front of him with the hint of dark circles under his eyes. And he was deciding that a pec-to-pec would still be incredibly unnerving, but it might be worth it to give Kurt a break. Besides…no one would see…

If Kurt had been aware of Finn's inner debate, it would have been easier for him to avoid jumping to conclusions.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled, breaking Finn out of his admittedly lagging train of thought.

Taking a deep breath, Finn managed to crush the urge to do some karate chops to get his courage up. Kurt was watching him carefully, and so he saw something shift in Finn's face when he mentally threw his logic to the winds. The next thing he knew, Finn had stepped forward and pulled him into a simple embrace. He felt his palms pressing sharply into the back of Finn's sweater, felt the swimming sensation in his stomach when he realized he could feel Finn's heartbeat against his own. He felt his breath catch in his lungs when Finn's chin rested on his hair, his arms tensely wrapped around Kurt's back. But mostly, he just felt relieved. Finn was giving him a moment he could fall back on. And even though his relationship with the rest of the world seemed to be getting steadily more disastrous, a moment's respite was being granted to him. He buried his face in Finn's chest, holding him tighter, and after Finn stiffened for a second, he felt the arms around him relax and draw him as close as he needed to be.

Closing his eyes, Kurt felt Finn's breath in hot waves against his neck. Finding it incredibly distracting, he pulled away before he let himself get too caught up in the butterflies that were making hurricanes in his abdomen.

"T-thank you," He said softly, looking up at Finn, who looked self conscious, a faint blush on his cheeks, then mentally kicked himself. There was no point in getting over the moon about a hug when he knew that Finn and Quinn had done so much more. "I mean, there's just a lot going on right now, that's really hard to talk about."

"Okay, just _stop_." Finn said, frustration appearing on his face. "I don't know what you're trying to say, but I'm really tired of people saying one thing and meaning another. It's like that thing in English…cacophony, or something."

"I think you mean irony." Kurt corrected, his face paling.

"Yeah. So if you're trying to tell me something, then just come out and say it."

Finn was still so close. If he'd wanted to reach out and hug him again, to tell him the secret that would impact Finn's life less but still ruin their friendship, it would be simple. But instead he looked into Finn's eyes and dropped his bombshell, his lip trembling.

"Finn, I don't think it's your baby."

Taking a step back, Finn looked like he'd been struck in the face. He didn't say anything, and the tension in the air was so thick Kurt couldn't breathe properly. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, anything to get that dumbfounded look off Finn's face, he was cut off.

"Kurt, you can't start taking whatever's going on in your life out on me, okay?" He shook his head. He didn't look angry, only disappointed. "It's not cool."

He turned around and walked up the aisle to the exit, and Kurt followed as soon as the doors had shut behind him, sparing no time for him to reflect on the potential disaster that had just taken place.

______

It was back to square one, Kurt thought as his head pounded with a steady rhythm, except now things seemed even worse. He had passed Finn in the hallways between afternoon classes and he had pointedly looked down, ignoring Kurt's half hearted wave.

Giving Mercedes time he could handle: he was sure that eventually she would be ready to talk things through with him. But his bond with Finn was fragile, and Kurt feared the worst. So instead of going to English, which was another class he shared with Finn, he chickened out and sat in the bathroom for the last hour of the day, his iPod playing, but quietly to avoid aggravating his headache further.

Waiting for the bell to ring gave Kurt plenty of time to think. Whether he liked it or not, the balance of his life was slowly shifting downhill, and he didn't feel like he could do anything about it. Ever since Finn had told him that he had slept with Quinn _for the first time_, a haze had formed around the subject in his mind. He danced around it, ignoring the fact that Finn's happiness was actually thriving, dwelling instead on the deception that happiness was based on.

Had he been wrong? Was it better to let Finn carry on, loving Quinn, rather than sowing seeds of doubt and sorrow? Kurt shook his head. It couldn't be that. But even after finally telling Finn what had been distressing him for days, the sinking in the pit of his stomach refused to dissipate. And Kurt had the terrible feeling that it was because it didn't matter. No matter what he did to make Finn realize that he was with the wrong girl, it wouldn't raise him in the romantic rankings. And no matter how much he told himself to accept it, to reserve this well of emotional depth he'd discovered he held for some other person instead of Finn, it was futile.

Even if it was hopeless to attempt to stem his feelings, it certainly didn't make it any easier. So the only thing left was to go on.

At last the clanging of the school bell announced that the day was over, and the weekend had arrived. Kurt exited the bathroom unnoticed and slipped into the fray of the hallways, heading to his locker and eager to drive home. As he neared it though, his heart nearly stopped at the scene taking place at a locker just before is. Finn stood with his back to Kurt, his expression invisible, but his shoulders were tense. He was facing Quinn, who looked petrified. Ducking against the wall in a break between lockers, he tried to look stealthy while observing exactly what was going on.

"I just don't get it, Quinn. The more I think about it the more it doesn't make sense. How are you pregnant when Monday night was the first time we did it?"

Quinn stared up at him, her face clenched painfully. "I told you Finn, we were in the hot tub."

"I just really need to know if that's what happened." Kurt didn't hear any steel in his voice, only a soft plead. He watched Quinn's complexion grow steadily more flushed, as she bit her lip, trying ferociously not to cry. She didn't look away from his face as the tears spilled over, and she began to sob. Finn's shoulders wilted, then clenched as he hunched over her.

"I asked is that what happened?" he said, and the menace was there for anyone to hear. The laughter and shouts of the hallways had died down to the hush of whispers being swapped, whirling around the couple like the wind. Kurt stepped out of his niche in the corner and watched openly as Quinn shook her head, crying too hard to answer.

"Who was he?" Finn asked, and it would have sounded casual if he hadn't been shaking. "I asked _who_!" He was shouting now, and Kurt felt a brief pang of fear for Quinn…a brief moment where he was _afraid_ of Finn. Quinn mouthed something, shaking her head, a piece of blonde hair sticking to her dampened cheek.

"What was that?" Finn hissed.

"P-puck." She stammered out, and something in her seemed to collapse. "Finn, I'm so sorry, I just couldn't tell you, but I'm so sorry, I wish it had never happened." The stream of words was endless but it didn't look like Finn was listening. His hands were clenched, and as he leaned against the locker, he brought a fist up to smash into the metal. Uttering a hoarse, unintelligible sound, he turned around and sped towards the doors, nearly colliding with Kurt who had stood rooted to the spot as he approached.

Now, Kurt was racing after his retreating back, not caring who stared or tittered on the sidelines. Hammering through the double doors of McKinley, Kurt flew across the parking lot, shouting Finn's name. Finn paused at the call, giving Kurt enough time to catch up, breathing heavily.

"Finn, I saw what happened." He gasped, leaning over to try and catch his breath.

"I figured. Not like you needed to though, did you? You already had it figured out. Like I was too stupid to." Bitterness saturated his words. For the first time since the confrontation, Kurt was able to look at his face. If it had been perfectly happy the morning after being together with Quinn, this was the polar opposite. His eyes were pinched, his mouth a thin slash marring the rest of his face.

"Finn, you weren't being stupid." Kurt said urgently, grasping at something to make this better. "You were doing what someone in a committed relationship should do: you trusted her. Quinn was the one who caused this, not you. Even I caused this more than you did." He added, a note of pleading entering his voice, more high pitched than usual with the panic of the situation. "If I hadn't suggested the idea, you never would have asked."

"You're right." Finn said, smiling cynically. "I wouldn't have. And I'm glad that you told me, but I just can't _handle_ this."

Something in Kurt cringed at the pain he was going through. Feeling less self conscious after their moment in the auditorium, he wrapped his arms around the taller boy and held on as tightly as he could. He could feel Finn shaking again, wracked with dry tears, and felt his own eyes dampen. It didn't matter if he didn't have a chance, he thought. Love wasn't always about everything working out. Love was about love, pure and simple, and if loving a person meant knocking yourself down a few pegs once in awhile then it had to be worth it. Sniffling, Kurt felt Finn draw back to press their foreheads together.

"Kurt, I…" He began, but stopped. All Kurt could do was stare into his brown eyes and ignore the tears falling from his own. It occurred to him how close their lips were from touching, and he felt dizzy at the thought. His eyes dropped to Finn's lips, much paler than his own but just as full…he felt his eyes drifting closed as he took a shuddering breath, struggling to clear his head. He drew back and looked back up at Finn.

"Would you like a ride home? My car is just in the next row." He offered, daring to take Finn's hand. Finn nodded distractedly, withdrawing into himself.

"That'd be really awesome, Kurt. Thanks." He muttered, and allowed Kurt to lead him to his car. Kurt still hadn't gone to his locker, which meant most of his homework was at school and not in his messenger bag, but that didn't faze him.

The drive home was mostly silent. Kurt didn't say anything when Finn curled up on the seat and started to actually cry, and refrained from playing any of his appropriately themed show tunes. When he pulled into Finn's driveway, he placed a tender hand on Finn's broad shoulder.

"Do you want me to stay?" He asked hesitantly, but Finn shook his head.

"Thanks Kurt. But I just really want to be alone right now." He looked exhausted, and his eyes were bloodshot.

"Finn, if you ever want someone to talk to, or you know, not talk to, or…" Catching himself before his rambling continued, he shut his eyes briefly before rephrasing. "Finn, if you need anybody. For _anything_. Please call me."

"Yeah, I will. Later, Kurt." He said as he clumsily stepped out the door and shuffled up his driveway with heavy steps.

Staring after him, Kurt sighed. He'd really set the metaphorical bull in the china shop loose now, and while it had to be better to have the truth come out and Finn back on his side, it seemed like everyone was getting hit with the broken glass.


	4. Currents

_I'm not a frequent updater, as you can probably notice. The story isn't abandoned - in fact, it's entirely planned - but when I write it out depends on the time I have and the inspiration the strikes me. So for those of you that hang in there and stick with it, I think the world of you._

_Disclaimer: No, I don't own Glee, or anything else copyright protected that might be mentioned.  
_

Saturday afternoon found Kurt lying moodily on his bed, dwelling on the events of the previous day. His iPod had been playing the Wicked soundtrack but the playlist had ended hours ago. His cell phone was tightly grasped in his hand, the volume at the maximum. Even though it had been less than a day, the fact that Finn hadn't called was worrying him to no end. His mind was so caught up in the mess he had started that he didn't notice when his father knocked on the door, and without waiting for acknowledgment, opened it and came in.

"Hey Kurt, you got a sec.?" He asked, eyeing his son quizzically.

"Sorry dad, I'm listening to music. It's a Glee assignment." Kurt responded vaguely, his gaze unwavering from the spot on the wall it had fixated upon. Shaking his head, Burt sat down on the edge of Kurt's bed.

"Nice try. It was so loud it was drowning out the sports network earlier, I think I'd notice if it was still going." Kurt winced when he realized his speakers were silent.

"Okay, Dad. What's going on?" He said tentatively.

"That's what I was going to ask you. I'd like to know what's bugging my son so much that I haven't seen hide nor hair of his gelled head since yesterday after school. What's the matter?"

Smiling, Kurt met his father's searching gaze. "I've just been caught up in the Mamma Mia soundtrack lately. And I'm a little tired. I suspect I'm catching something…" After a moment of silence, and the dubious disbelief on Burt's face, Kurt added a weak, dramatic cough for good measure. Burt sighed.

"Alright Kurt, here's the deal. I know I said before I didn't want to have the guy talk with you." He took a deep breath, and Kurt watched him carefully, his eyes widening. "But I guess I'm ready for it, if that's what's going on. So let's hear it."

Sitting up slowly, Kurt sized up his dad. When he'd first told him about his sexuality, the contentment at his acceptance had been legendary. Nevertheless, the idea of discussing the situation at hand with his All-American He-Man father was more than a little ludicrous.

"Who is it?" Burt prompted, and it was Kurt's turn to inhale deeply in preparation.

"Finn Hudson." He said softly, bracing himself.

"Hudson…that rings a bell."

"The quarterback, dad. He's also in Glee club." Still studying his father's expression intently, Kurt saw recognition dawn, closely followed by discomfort. Clearly, putting a face to the object of his son's fantasies was an awkward process.

"Yeah…I know the guy. The tall one." Burt nodded his own confirmation, and then added abruptly, "He's dating the blonde chick."

"Yes. Well…I don't know about that, anymore." Waiting silently for his son to continue, Burt Hummel didn't miss the creasing of his forehead and the slightly tremble of his jaw. "I had a hand in the recent dissolution of their relationship…but Quinn was the one at fault. She was being less than honest, and I…well, I just made Finn aware of the possibility." He met his father's eyes briefly, and then became suddenly very interested in the corner of the duvet on his bed. He was determined not to cry; he knew how much man-to-man emotion freaked his dad out, but he was fighting a losing battle. "I guess it wasn't the best thing to do."

"So, by recent, I guess that's what went down yesterday."

"Yes."

"Well Kurt, I don't have a lot of respect for people who try to be manipulative. You know that." Kurt bowed his head, but not before a visible tear rolled down his cheek. Grimacing, Burt cleared his throat and pressed on. "So, if she was doing that guy wrong then he's lucky to have someone who cares about him as much as you do, to set him straight. Or uh, not so straight, however it turns out."

Kurt laughed, albeit shakily. "I don't think that's in the picture, Dad." He sniffed rather un-daintily when he felt his dad rest a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you. For hearing me out."

"Yeah, well…I may not be the greatest at this kind of thing. But you're still my son, even if I have to put up with America's Next Top Model every Wednesday."

Blinking furiously, Kurt leaned forward to throw his arms around his dad with as much strength as he could muster. Awkwardly, Burt patted him on the back. Hugs were something he needed to work on…just like boy talk with Kurt, even if the process was much less painful as he'd initially suspected it would be. After a minute Kurt drew back.

"I got some stuff to get done in the garage. But I want you to let me know if you need anything, okay?"

Smiling softly, Kurt nodded. "Thanks again, Dad."

"Yeah, yeah." Burt grinned briefly, and meandered over to the doorway. A thick, unshakeable protectiveness lodged itself in the back of his throat as he looked back at his son, sitting on the bed, his expression quickly reverting to melancholy.

"Play your music as loud as you want, Kurt." He said gruffly, before shutting the door behind him.

______

Having resigned himself to a Finn-free day, by four o' clock Kurt had his worn DVD of Cabaret playing top force, fully taking advantage of Burt's temporary blessing of loud show tunes. Watching a young Liza Minnelli belt out Maybe This Time, he was all the more thankful that Rachel hadn't followed through with the musical. While her voice was as powerful and undeniable as her obnoxious personality, it just couldn't stand up to the task of doing this piece right. Kurt was so caught up in the song that the almost missed his phone's familiar jangling version of Madonna's 'Vogue'. _Almost_.

Pausing Cabaret mid-song, he raced across the room to answer the call. A quick check to the caller ID told him it was Finn, and a swift and increasingly familiar swimming sensation filled his stomach.

"Finn. Hi." He said, slightly out of breath. There was a long pause on the other end.

"Oh, _hey_ Kurt." He said, quite loudly. "What's new?"

"Nothing groundbreaking…at least, not today." Kurt added. The past week had been anything but ordinary, and waiting for Finn to respond made him nervous.

"Finn, are you okay?" He asked softly.

"I'm, uh, feeling a bit better." Finn laughed loosely. "D'you think you'd want to come over? Like anytime, or now, or you know."

"I don't think I do know." Kurt said, nonplussed. "But yes. I can do that. Now's….a good time, then?"

"Now's perfect." Finn said softly, and when no more was said, Kurt hung up the phone and raced upstairs.

Grabbing his keys, he practically flew into the garage to find his dad.

"I'm going out for awhile, dad. I'll be back later." He called, and made to turn around and head to his car.

"Whoa, whoa, now hang on just a second. Where are you dashing off to all of a sudden? I thought you were upset." Burt said suspiciously, taking a mental note of his son's flushed cheeks and eyes still overly bright from crying.

"I was. But it's Finn. I told him he could call me, if he needs me." Stumbling over the last part, Kurt looked at his dad pleadingly.

"And he called."

"Yes."

"Alright then," Burt sighed. He didn't know whether to be happy, apprehensive, or just plain miserable. His son was finally experiencing the drama of high school romance, which was, regardless of one's preferred gender, a series of disasters that skipped the waiting and simply happened. But there was also the thrill of the chase, the firm belief that this person was the only one you could care about. Puppy love, Burt thought of it as. And whether he thought he was in love or not, Kurt had eyes like a baby Cockapoo.

"Well," He continued after his moment of musing, striding over to Kurt with his eyebrow arched. "Go play." Messing up his disgruntled son's hair, he walked into the house.

________

Kurt rang the doorbell twice before finally there was the sound of someone lumbering down the stairs. When it opened, and Finn stood before him with a goofy grin settled on his face, the first thing Kurt was hit with was the obviously overbearing presence of alcohol.

"You've been drinking." He said, stepping around Finn and into the house, neatly tucking his shoes to the side.

"Yeah…" Finn mumbled contemplatively, gesturing for Kurt to follow him back up the stairs and into his room. A mess of beer cans was scattered about on the carpet, lying on top of the clothes that were also strewn about the space.

"I guess I could understand that, given the circumstances…" He watched as Finn opened another beer and took a heavy swig. "Is no one else here?" Kurt asked hesitantly.

"Nah, my mom's working. She takes late shifts on Saturdays." Finn tossed back the answer easily, but it wasn't what Kurt was looking for.

"What about…Quinn?"

Finn didn't answer for a long moment. He swished the liquid in the can around before taking another sip. For someone who hadn't known what a cliché was, he was knocking the typical "drowning one's sorrows" out of the park.

"She's not here anymore." Kurt didn't push the question, but after another minute Finn went on anyway. "I helped her pack her stuff this morning."

The look on his face was unmistakeable; Finn was a haunted man. The brief contentment he'd had with Quinn – the calm before the storm – was now proving to be the cloud hanging over his head, pressing his shoulders into a hunch and adding a hollow note of desperation to his voice. Kurt knew the look well, imagined it was similar to the one he had been wearing himself while these events were transpiring, and it killed him to see that entwined so intricately with Finn's features.

"I couldn't even ask her where she was staying. I just watched her drive away. I just couldn't handle it, if it were…"

"If it were Puck." Kurt said. He was done with riddles. He didn't want any enigmatic statements lingering in this conversation.

Finn shook his head cynically. "I just can't wrap my head around it." His fist tightened, crushing the empty can he held in it. "I gave her _so much money_ for a child I knew I wouldn't be raising, because it was _our_ child. It was my damn responsibility. And I find out that she'd just been taking it from me the whole time when I shouldn't have had anything to do with it." He turned his gaze to Kurt, his voice steadily escalating in volume.

"My Mom could have used that money to pay for shit around the house. To pay for anything! It's not like we're really well off." He snorted, reaching into the twelve pack for another, swaying slightly forward as he did so.

"Are you sure you want anything more to drink?" Kurt said sceptically. While Finn's communicative skills weren't suffering yet, he was quite certain they would be the next to go. Finn ignored the question, popping the top anyway and closing his eyes.

"I don't even know where to start about Puck. I mean first…it makes me so damn angry…" His shoulders tensed, nearly trembling, and his face hardened into a livid mask, with the quick addition of a twisted smile. "But I don't know Kurt, I mean once I think about it a little more…what a joke. Quinn slept with him but even so, she still didn't want him to be the dad. She wouldn't trust him with that responsibility, and I don't think anyone would." He scoffed, hanging his head.

"But here I am, talking shit about the guy who was my best friend." He lapsed into silence again, and the shadow of a delicate pain could be seen in the crease of his eyebrow, the set of his chin. "I mean…I lost her." His voice was barely above a whisper, and overwhelmingly thick. "And I've lost my best friend, too."

Until now, Kurt had assumed the best thing for Finn would be to listen without interrupting, to let him vent all the feelings he had to deal with. But catching a glimpse of tears gathering in his eyes, he decided it was time to step in.

"Finn, listen." Kurt said firmly, wrapping his arm tightly around Finn's shaking shoulders. His mind was blank past stemming Finn's rant of mourning. So, he said the first thing that came to his mind.

"I'll be your best friend."

Finn's response was immediate, as he sagged onto Kurt's chest, catching the smaller boy's breath in his throat.

"God, Kurt…" He mumbled into the thin material of Kurt's shirt. "I really need you to be, I think."

Touched, Kurt raised his hand to comb his fingers carefully through Finn's short hair. What was meant as a solitary soothing gesture was prolonged, as Kurt traced light circles over the jock's hairline. The unlucky circumstances ceased to matter; he was there to be supporting of Finn, but he couldn't ignore the fact that he was still completely enamoured with him. His breath hitched again when he felt Finn's lips moving against his collarbone, and his fingers shook. It took him a moment to realize Finn had been speaking, and that he had completely missed what had been voiced.

"I'm sorry, w-what was that?" He said, his voice hushed and breathy. Finn lifted his head from Kurt's chest, not questioning it when Kurt let his hand remain at the base of his neck.

"This morning…Quinn kissed me, right before she left." A strange look on his face was surfacing, his gaze locked with Kurt's, unwavering. "She kissed me, and I know that she loves me, I could tell, but I just can't." Kurt, still flustered, was stuck on the simple things.

"She kissed you?" He murmured.

"Yeah." Finn stopped, the look on his face intensifying. "Yeah…" he repeated. "Like this."

Before Kurt knew what to do, Finn had surged forward, pressing their lips together. It was clumsy, but it was Finn, and Finn was _kissing_ him…just when Kurt started to close his eyes and respond, the other boy pulled away. Kurt kept his eyes cast down, not daring to expect anything, but tendrils of fool's hope snaking their way around his heart anyway. So it was a complete surprise to him when all of a sudden, Finn's mouth was again on his.

It was an urgent and hungry sort of kiss, Kurt could taste beer in Finn's mouth and thought that Finn must have been much more drunk than he had judged, but then Finn rested his hand on Kurt's cheek and angled his mouth just perfectly, and Kurt stopped thinking anything.

And Finn's other hand was sliding down Kurt's side, resting on the side of his hip, curling unsubtly around his butt, and then Kurt's arms flew around Finn's neck as he lost his balance, completely overcome with sensations he had never had before. Ages later, long moments of pushing and pulling, false breaths stolen from the corners of their mouths, Finn pulled back. A look of bemusement now relaxing his face, he fell back on his bed where they had been sitting. Kurt stared down at him, nonplussed. Within minutes, Finn's eyes had closed and he was starting to snore. Reaching up to brush his lips with his fingertips, Kurt tried to take hold of what had just happened. He didn't know what had brought on the sudden change in mood, and frankly thought he would be biased in anything he tried to read into.

A moment of panic burning his stomach, he dashed downstairs to the kitchen. He took a deep breath, but all he could sense was the dizzying presence of Finn throughout the house. Throughout him. Filling a glass of water, he carefully returned to Finn's bedroom. He placed it on the bedside table, and stared at the sleeping boy in front of him.

If it were a movie, I would say something, he thought. Some parting remark that he may or may not hear, a little something to remember when he woke up, hung over as hell. But a stillness had stolen over Kurt, numbing his wit and natural flair for dramatic exits. So he carefully leaned down, dropped a gentle kiss on Finn's forehead, and walked down the stairs to collect his shoes.


End file.
